


So Baby Say You'll Always Keep Me

by EmmyLouWho



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry is very dramatic, M/M, Married Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Sappy, Stress Baking, Teacher Louis, a little crack fic-y, apology brownies, pick someone who's supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 05:37:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10587546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyLouWho/pseuds/EmmyLouWho
Summary: Today, Harry was baking triple-chocolate brownies, because they were his husband’s favourite. It was an old family recipe, one Harry had made dozens of times before, and it was always a crowd pleaser. He measured out the chocolate into his bowl with even more care than usual, because he needed these brownies to be perfect. He needed them to be so amazing that maybe they would give Louis reason to pause when he came home tonight and inevitably demanded a divorce when he found out the awful thing that Harry had done. Although, he thought, that did seem like a lot to ask from a brownie, even a really delicious triple-chocolate one.Or: Harry stress-bakes. Louis loves him.





	

Harry was stress baking. 

It was something he’d done a lot of when he was in school. Whenever his exams came around and he needed an outlet for his anxiety, he would pull out his trusty mixing bowl and his mum’s battered old recipe book, and he baked. He made simple things like chocolate chip cookies and banana bread at first, and then as he got more confident he graduated onto trickier recipes, producing pies and elaborate mud cakes and, on one memorable occasion, even a croquembouche. 

When he was still living at home as a teenager, his family had certainly never complained about the sudden influx of food, and neither had his flatmates during uni, who had actually regularly put in their requests in advance of the exam period and made sure that Harry had all the necessary ingredients waiting for him in the kitchen. 

Louis certainly didn’t mind either, now that they were living together. Like with any of Harry’s quirks, he just smiled and accepted it without question. Whenever Louis saw Harry pull out the well-loved recipe book, now bulging with new recipes that Harry had added over the years, he’d kiss him on the cheek and then give him space for an hour or so, only re-emerging when the pleasant smells started floating down the hallway and under the door of their little makeshift home office. They’d sit together and taste-test Harry’s latest creation, and Louis would always make sure to give Harry a cuddle and tell him how much he loved him. By the time they loaded up the dishwasher together, his stress had always vanished. Harry had picked a pretty good spouse, if he did say so himself. 

Today, Harry was baking triple-chocolate brownies, because they were his husband’s favourite. It was an old family recipe, one Harry had made dozens of times before, and it was always a crowd pleaser. He measured out the chocolate into his bowl with even more care than usual, because he needed these brownies to be _perfect._ He needed them to be so amazing that maybe they would give Louis reason to pause when he came home tonight and inevitably demanded a divorce when he found out the awful thing that Harry had done. Although, he thought, that did seem like a lot to ask from a brownie, even a really delicious triple-chocolate one. 

He put the brownie pan into the oven and set the timer, moving to their tiny living room to slump down on the sofa. The pesky loose spring in the sofa was digging into his back through the cushion, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t bring himself to pick up the remote and turn on the TV either, and so he just sat in silence and stared at the blank screen. 

Louis was usually home from his job teaching English at the local secondary school by 4pm, or 4:15 if he got distracted talking to Niall, the friendly P.E. teacher, on his way home. That meant Harry had about half an hour until his whole world came crashing down around him. It had been a pretty good one, Harry thought. He had a gorgeous, loving husband, and the tiny cottage of his dreams, along with a cat that was their unspoken practice-run for a baby. It was such a shame that Harry had had to go and ruin it. 

At first, he’d wondered if he could just hide it from Louis, but he knew he would never get away with it. There weren’t any secrets between the two of them, and honesty was so important to their relationship that Harry knew it would be even worse if he tried to lie to cover up his own mistakes. He had to own up to them, no matter the consequences. 

Harry sighed again, and rolled over so he could shove his face deep into the sofa cushions. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, wallowing in his own self-pity, but before he knew it he heard the unmistakeable sound of keys turning in the front door lock. His heart immediately leapt up into his throat. He heard the door open, and then the sound of his husband shedding his coat and greeting their tabby cat, Sage, in the hallway. 

“Haz?” Louis called out. 

“In here,” Harry managed, throat dry. 

Louis appeared in the doorway, grinning over at him while he unwound the soft white scarf from around his neck. Harry had knitted him that scarf last month after his mum had given him a “Knitting for Beginners” book for Christmas. It was probably a bit generous to call it a scarf, really, since it had numerous holes from where Harry had dropped stitches while trying to master the technique, but Louis insisted on wearing it anyway. 

“Hi, love,” Louis said, bending over to give Harry a quick kiss. He flung the misshapen scarf over onto the coffee table, and sat down next to Harry on the sofa.

“How was your - ”

“How was your day!” Harry near-yelled, interrupting Louis before he could finish his question. He knew he couldn’t lie to Louis, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to explain what had happened just yet. He thought maybe a “the best defence is a good offense” kind of strategy might be best. Louis looked a bit perturbed though, staring at Harry for a few seconds before replying. 

“It was good,” he said, “I started _Romeo and Juliet_ today with my year nines, and we’re going to watch the Baz Lurhman film tomorrow. Any excuse for a little bit of Leo.”

He smirked at Harry, but his face dropped when Harry didn’t respond. 

“Are you okay, Haz? You look a bit peaky.”

Harry was saved from answering by the ‘ding’ of the oven timer, signalling that his brownies were ready. He fled to the kitchen without a word, pulling the pan out of the oven and breathing in the warm chocolatey smell. It usually calmed him down, but right now it just made him feel vaguely nauseous. He cut a big piece for Louis, still hot from the pan, put it on a plate and brought it through to the living room. 

Louis was watching him carefully when he entered the room, and he frowned when he saw the plate of brownies. He smiled gently though when Harry handed the plate over to him, and dutifully took a bite, giving him a thumbs up. 

“It’s delicious, love, as always.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said, attempting a smile which probably came out closer to a grimace. 

Louis set down his plate and shuffled closer to Harry, who was hovering at the edge of the sofa. Harry immediately cuddled up to his side, but still avoided his eyes. He was sure that if he made eye contact with him while they were this close, Louis would be able to see the guilt in his eyes. That is, if he hadn’t already detected it from the brownies. 

He turned his face into Louis’ shoulder and breathed in his familiar, comforting smell. It was a combination of Louis’ body wash, cologne, and the washing powder Harry always bought. It was Harry’s favourite smell in the whole world, and he hadn’t even minded the intense ribbing he’d gotten for it from his mates the one time he’d accidentally let that fact slip in front of them. It smelled like home. 

Harry probably could have stayed there breathing into Louis’ jumper for hours, but he knew that Louis wasn’t going to let him get away with his odd behaviour for long. Like clockwork, Louis reached over and gently ran his hand through Harry’s hair, brushing his thumb over Harry’s cheek and lifting his face so he was looking at Louis. 

“Love, what’s going on?” he asked quietly. 

“I have to tell you something,” Harry said. 

“Oh?”

“Something bad.”

“It’s okay, Haz, what is it?” Louis said, putting one hand on Harry’s knee and rubbing it comfortably. 

Harry felt like crying. Louis being so concerned about him was just making it so much harder to actually say the words out loud. 

“I…” Harry averted his eyes, fiddling with the frayed edges of the rip in his jeans. Maybe it would be easier if he just said it quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. He took a deep breath. 

_“I-kind-of-dropped-your-signed-copy-of-Harry-Potter-in-the-bathtub.”_

“Sorry, what was that?”

Harry cringed. 

“I accidentally dropped your signed copy of Harry Potter? In the bath?”

 

~.~.~.~

 

It had happened like this.

Harry, gifted with a rare Monday off work, had made the most of having the house all to himself. He had spent the morning deep cleaning their little cottage, scrubbing the bathroom, washing all the windows, and even pulling out the entire contents of their kitchen cupboards to wipe them down and reorganise them. 

After his hard work, the house looked sparkly clean, and so Harry had drawn himself a well-earned bath. They’d picked their house mostly for its close location to both of their workplaces, and its reasonable price, but they’d be lying if they said the roomy bathtub wasn’t also a big factor in their decision. 

They both loved their jobs - Louis as a teacher and Harry as a graphic designer - but they were both pretty stressful, and when the pressure of exams and deadlines and nagging parents and demanding clients all got too much, they loved taking warm baths together before bed. Unfortunately, lately they'd both been so busy that they'd been stuck with rushed showers only. 

It was only early afternoon, so Harry knew he had a good two hours before Louis would be home from school, and so he still had plenty of time for a good, relaxing soak. He didn’t often take baths alone, but he did sometimes when he wanted to use his fancy bath bombs or salts. Louis didn’t like having anything in the tub except regular old bubbles. 

Harry got the hot water running, and rummaged through the bathroom cabinet while the tub filled. Gemma had given him a gift basket from Lush the previous Christmas, and he still had some bath bombs left. He selected a purple sparkly one, dropping it into the water and grinning as he watched glitter immediately begin to spread. 

He hummed to himself absentmindedly as he started to strip off his clothes, tossing his discarded shirt into the laundry basket sitting in the corner. He hopped on one foot as he pulled off his socks, nearly tripping over himself as he did so. He caught himself with a hand on the vanity just in time, and laughed. He was just about to step into the tub when he noticed a book lying on the bath mat. He bent over to pick it up, and realised it wasn’t just any book, it was _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_. He wasn’t sure what it was doing in their bathroom, but he suspected it might have had something to do with their darling cat, who had recently started rearranging their belongings all over the house. 

As if he had summoned her with his thoughts, Sage’s fluffy head poked through the door. She dashed in, weaving her way around Harry’s legs. He crouched down to pet her, laughing as she rubbed her cheek against his calf. 

“Hi, Sage-y baby,” he cooed, “you don’t like being left out of anything, do you? No, you’re such a snoop.”

Sage meowed. 

“C’mon, let’s go put your daddy’s book away, and then you can sit on the counter and judge me to your heart’s content while I have my bath.”

He stood up to go drop the book off in their bedroom, but Sage suddenly dashed off in front of him, the bath mat slipped from underneath his feet, and before he knew what was happening he was on all fours on the bathroom floor, book flying though the air.   
There was a splash to his right, and Harry whipped his head around to look. Though the purple-swirled water in the tub, Harry could just make out the book lying sadly at the bottom. 

No, no, no, no, _no_. 

This was _not_ happening. 

He pulled the book out as fast as he could, dabbing at it with a towel, but he could tell that the damage had already been done.   
The pages were all warped from the water, and there was a distinct sheen of glitter that made Harry grimace. He flipped to the title page, and it was blank. Harry’s heart dropped to his stomach. There was no sign at all of the autograph that had once been scribbled across the page in black sharpie. It had completely vanished, just like magic, and wasn’t that just fucking ironic.

“Oh, Sage,” Harry said, horrified, “what have I done?”

This was bad. Really, really bad.

Louis’ three items that he would save in the event of a house fire were: Harry, their cat, and his signed copy of _Prisoner of Azkaban_. Harry knew this, because Louis had told him - and everyone else they knew - multiple times. 

To say that Louis was a Harry Potter fan would be an understatement. He _loved_ Harry Potter. One of their first dates had actually been to the midnight premiere of the _Deathly Hallows Part One_ film, and if Harry hadn’t been completely gone for Louis by then, seeing him in his replica robes and excitedly eating popcorn while they waited for the film to start was enough for Harry to know that he wasn’t letting this boy go any time soon. They’d been back at the midnight premiere of _Part Two_ the following year, and this time Harry had a costume too. 

They’d happily dated for four years, and then gotten married after a short engagement. Harry had surprised his new spouse by planning a trip to Orlando for their honeymoon, so they could visit the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. They’d drunk enough frozen Butterbeer to last a lifetime, and when they boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time, Louis had cried. 

So yeah, it was safe to say Harry Potter was pretty important to him. 

And now Harry had managed to ruin his prize possession, and possibly his marriage, all before they’d even made it to their first wedding anniversary. 

He’d already scoured eBay looking for a replacement book, but the only signed copies available were either fakes, or going for several thousand pounds. And anyway, even if he somehow had been able to afford to buy a replacement, he knew that he wouldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to Louis about anything. 

So here he was, facing the consequences for his actions, armed with only a plate of brownies and an abundance of remorse. 

 

~.~.~.~

 

“God, Haz,” Louis said, shaking his head, and Harry shut his eyes, bracing himself for the fallout. He was quite surprised when he heard Louis start to laugh, and he cracked one eye open to check. 

“You had me worried that it was something really bad,” Louis continued. 

“This _is_ really bad!” Harry interjected indignantly. 

“Well, I mean, it’s not _good_ ,” Louis said, “but you were acting so strange I thought you might be about to tell me you were dying, or had, like, a secret second family in Paris or something.”

Harry was speechless. He felt completely off kilter; he’d spent all afternoon anxiously preparing himself for his big confession, and now it was turning out nothing like he’d imagined at all. 

“You mean you’re not going to divorce me?” he asked in a small voice. 

“Div- Harry, no, of course not.” 

Louis reached over and wrapped him up in a big hug. Harry burrowed his face into Louis’ neck and promptly burst into tears. Louis just held him tighter and ran one hand up and down his back. 

“Hey, love, it’s alright, please don’t be upset.”

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” Harry sobbed, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Shhhh,” Louis said, continuing to rub Harry’s back as he cried, “it’s okay, love.”

“You shouldn’t be comforting me,” Harry wailed, “I’m the bad guy here.”

“Oh, Haz. You could never be the bad guy.”

“But I _ruined_ your book! I know how much that means to you and now it’s _ruined_ and it’s all my fault!”

“Haz,” Louis said gently. “Harry. Look at me.” 

Harry huffed another breath into Louis’ neck, then slowly lifted his head up. Louis used both thumbs to gently wipe away the tear tracks under his eyes, and left his hands on his cheeks. 

“I’m not mad at you for this, okay? It was an accident.” 

“But-”

“No. Listen to me, my sweet, _darling_ husband. I loved that book, sure, but I love you most, okay? You are more important to me than anything else.”

Harry could feel tears welling up in his eyes again. “I love you too,” he whispered. 

Louis leaned in and pressed his lips to Harry’s forehead, pulling back to look him directly in the eye. “You’re my number one Harry,” he said, grinning, “don’t you ever forget it.”

“Don’t let the Prince hear you say that, you might be arrested for treason,” Harry joked. 

“Ooh, he’s got jokes,” Louis said. “C’mon, let’s see the book then.” 

Harry bit his lip. 

“Come on,” Louis said. “I wanna see.”

Reluctantly, Harry stood up and retrieved the book from their bathroom, where he’d left it sitting wrapped in a towel. He sat back down on the sofa, and held the book out for Louis to inspect. He’d managed to dry it out with their hair dryer, but it was thicker now than before, and there was nothing to be done about the glitter. 

Louis was looking at it confusedly, one eyebrow raised. 

“Haz…”

“Her autograph is completely gone. I’m sorry,” Harry said, mouth pinched. 

“Love, I already told you to stop apologising. But, Harry.” Louis exhaled deeply. “Harry, that’s not my signed book.”

What.

“What?”

“That’s not my signed book. That’s from the set I keep lying around to read to the twins, I was reading to them from that on the weekend when they came to stay over.”

Oh. _Oh_. In all the chaos, Harry had never even thought to check their bookshelf to see whether the signed copy was missing. He’d just assumed, but now with the benefit of hindsight…

“That’s why it was in the bathroom,” Harry breathed. “That makes sense.”

“Bath and a story,” they said in unison, grinning. 

“Oh, _Haz_ ,” Louis said, pulling him in for another hug. 

Harry started to giggle. “You know what, the twins will probably consider the book having had a glittery makeover to be an improvement.”

“You can never go wrong with a bit of sparkle.” 

He laced their fingers together and squeezed tight. 

“So, in conclusion,” Louis announced, “the precious hand-autographed copy of _Prisoner of Azkaban_ is still in its spot of pride on my bookshelf, you’ve pleased the twins by bedazzling their copy, I love you more than anything, _and_ we’ve got a whole batch of triple-chocolate brownies. Everything turned out okay, after all.”

“I never got my bath though,” Harry pointed out. 

“Ah, we can fix that,” Louis said. “I’ll run the water, you grab the rest of the brownies. My husband’s had a rough day, he deserves a nice bath.” 

 

~.~.~.~

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "Truly, Madly, Deeply" by One Direction. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm not really sure what this is, but the prompt made me laugh, so here we go. Please let me know if you enjoyed :) :)


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